Who's Speaking?

Arnold Chan (English 112, 1996)

My birth takes place more than once. In the plea of a bygone
monster; from
a muddy hole by corpse-light; under the needle, and under the
pen.

Or it took place not at all.

But if I hope to tell a good story, I must leapfrog out of
the middle of my
several births to the day I parted for the last time with the author of my
being, and set out to write
my own destiny. (from "Birth")

Who is speaking here? At first glance, it may seem that it is the female
monster speaking,
ready to tell her story and to narrate her autobiography. Yes, the "bygone
monster" of Frankenstein
had asked for the creation of a mate, and yes, her parts were gathered "by
corpse-light" and
assembled "under the needle." However, how was she created "under the pen"?
Perhaps some
case could be made for the necessary scientific and mathematical figurings
required for such an
undertaking, but it seems out of place.

Looking deeper, perhaps it is not the monster at all who is speaking, but
the text itself. Could
the "bygone monster" be the printed text of the past? Could the "muddy hole
by corpse-light" and
"the needle" be allusions to the eerie glow of a computer monitor and the
needle point of a mouse?
Now, then, the pen would seem to be at home.

Shelley Jackson's creation works wonderfully on several levels. The text
is a double entendre
of sorts. Even though Patchwork Girl is the story of a female
Frankenstein's monster, it doubles as
an excellent commentary on the fluid and eclectic properties of hypertext.

I am buried here. You can resurrect me, but only piecemeal. If you want to see me whole, you will have to sew me together yourself. (from "Graveyard")

Here is the monster speaking about her parts and origins, but one can
easily interpret this as
the essence of hypertext: here are the parts; put it together yourself and
see what you get. This is
the culmination of the interactive text.